


A Beast in the Guise of a Knight

by RowanAndWriting



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Gen, How Do I Tag, mentioned underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 13:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17663279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanAndWriting/pseuds/RowanAndWriting
Summary: Prompt: Write about a betrayal from the point of view of both parties.“I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you, Sir Roldan,” I say, breaking the silence of the forest around us, “You and I both know who the more experienced swordsman here is, and I can have your head separated from your vile body before you even twitch your muscles to step away.” I press my blade harder into his neck, drawing a few beads of dark blood to the tip of my sword in punctuation.





	A Beast in the Guise of a Knight

 

I have the disgusting bastard exactly where I want him, and I’m enjoying every moment of it.

 

Ever since  _ that  _ night, the night I saw Sir Roldan mounted upon my youngest daughter like some sort of  _ mutt, _ I’d felt nothing but enmity for my fellow knight, the young man that I had personally trained. Eleanor was hardly sixteen summers old, she had no idea the difference between  _ love  _ and  _ infatuation, _ and yet Sir Roldan took advantage of her still! 

 

I know well how many women Sir Roldan has been with, and I know just as well that he’ll discard my sweet girl as soon as he tires of her, leaving her used, hurt, and dishonored as a whore for sleeping with a man who had not courted her.

 

After the incident, I’d briefly considered throwing my gauntlet down at his feet and challenging him to a duel to protect my daughter’s honor, but men like him, men who bring shame to the honor of knighthood, don’t deserve such respect.

 

No, he deserves to die writhing in the dirt like the foul animal he is.

 

The thought of bringing death to Sir Roldan brings my mind back to the present, where I watch Sir Roldan’s back intently as I follow him away from our patrol’s camp to join him for night watch.

 

As soon as we travel far enough from the camp that we can hardly see the glow of our fire, I act. 

 

Silently, I slide my sword out of its sheath and bring the tip to press lightly at the back of his neck, right above where his light mail shirt ends. Sir Roldan stops as soon as my blade kisses his skin. 

 

As I watch him tense, likely about to attempt to push my sword away so he may defend himself with his own, I speak.

 

“I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you, Sir Roldan,” I say, breaking the silence of the forest around us, “You and I both know who the more experienced swordsman here is, and I can have your head separated from your vile body before you even twitch your muscles to step away.” I press my blade harder into his neck, drawing a few beads of dark blood to the tip of my sword in punctuation.

 

Sir Roldan stays tense, but he doesn’t shift much more, and I can tell that he’s decided to talk rather than fight. Hmph. He always has relied on his charm and forked tongue to save him.

 

“Hadrian,” he starts, tone ever diplomatic. I growl low in my throat and dig my blade deeper still into the cut I’d made, infuriated already by the weasel’s attempts to placate me.

 

“ _ Sir  _ Hadrian,” he tries again, voice wavering now with the beginnings of true distress. I feel a sadistic grin stretch my lips, pleased to watch him squirm so soon. 

 

“I haven’t the faintest clue what this is about, but I’m sure we can settle this with words rather than blades. Truly, I believe that you may have made some sort of mistake! I’ve done nothing-” I snarl at him, lashing out and kicking his legs from behind, thus forcing him to his knees.

 

“My daughter,” I roar, rage guiding me, “Is not  _ nothing!” _ Though I am unable to see his face, I see his shoulders draw up quickly, heedless of the blade still poised at his nape, and hear his sharp intake of breath.

 

All is silent for a time save for my own harsh breaths, and I imagine that he is trying vainly to come up with an excuse or a lie that would save his miserable life, for by now he must be sure that I have no intention of letting him live.

 

Finally, Sir Roldan begins speaking, his words coming out quickly, as though he thinks that if he talks fast enough, he’ll be able to stay my hand.

 

“Sir Hadrian, please, it was a mistake! I, I meant no disrespect, I swear, I responded only to her advances! There was full consent, Hadrian, please, you’ve been my friend and ally ever since I was a young page, surely you don’t mean to kill me in cold blood and dishonor your knighthood!” Sir Roldan babbles, and as he speaks, I feel my hate only grow.

 

“The  _ only _ reason anyone in my family may be dishonored,  _ Roldan _ , is because of  _ you!”  _ I thrust my boot out again to knock him onto his hands. There, I think with no small amount of satisfaction. Now he’s filthy both inside and out, crawling in the mud like a pig.

 

At that image, I take a deep breath to steady myself. 

 

I want this to last.

 

“And even more, to  _ blame _ my child,  _ barely sixteen summers old,  _ for your scoundrelous actions, is sickening.” I take that moment drag my blade slowly around his neck to his throat until I stand in front of him, now staring down at his face, twisted in fear.

 

“Have you anything to say, any  _ repentance  _ to offer, before I end your miserable life?” I glare at him, daring him do anything other than beg.

 

“So you’re really going to kill me, Hadrian…?” He speaks quietly then, resigned. As a knight, I must admit that I’m disappointed that the rotten criminal doesn’t squirm or beg. Nevertheless, I answer his question.

 

“Yes, Sir Roldan. For my daughters stolen chastity, for the other young ladies only God knows whether or not you’ve touched, and for-”

 

“Oh, spare me your justification!”

 

\--

 

“Oh, spare me your justification!” I feel sick hearing Hadrian’s insane ramblings. Held at swordpoint with no real hope of escape, I find a fire inside myself. The fire, instilled in me by Hadrian himself when I was but a page, to fight until my very last breath. If he is truly going to kill me, then I will do my very best to injure him back.

 

“That  _ strumpet _ threw herself at me! I didn’t even have to work to get her into my bed, and once I had-”

 

“Shut up! Shut  _ up _ , goddamn you!”

 

“-Once I had, she wasn’t even a good lay! Though she _writhed_ under me, like a _bitch in_ _heat_ , her virginal fumblings wouldn’t be worth even _a single piece of copper_ in any run-down whore house!” My words come more labored as Hadrian’s trembling hand forces his sword deeper into the skin of my throat, just the smallest amount of pressure away from ending my life. The steel slowly burying itself in my flesh burns, but the desire to wound my killer wins over my body’s begging for an end to the pain.

 

In truth, the girl had been entertainment, as I know I had likewise been to her. Nothing more and nothing less. She had expressed interest in the touch of a man, and I had offered my services. The sex was decent, nothing like what I describe to Hadrian, but I want hurt this man, the man who had trained me and groomed me to knighthood only to cast me away over a simple act of pleasure. 

 

I will not quiver and beg at the feet of a mad man.

 

“You worthless goddamn dog!” Hadrian roars, fury painted clear on his face, spittle flying from his lips as he rages. If it weren’t for the blade at my throat, I think I may have laughed at the sheer hypocrisy in him likening me to an animal

 

“Run me through, Hadrian! Run me through with that sword you hold now, the sword that was given to you by our king when you swore to be a noble and honorable knight! Kill me now and spit on the oaths you took, spit on the very glory of the kingdom you swore to protect, you mad son of a-” and just like that, with a beastial cry from Hadrian, I feel the awful sensation of steel sliding, almost unimpeded, into my throat. 

 

Briefly, my nerves are alight with a searing fire and I can  _ feel _ blood seeping from the wound, back into my throat. Before long, I am drowning in my own life force, and as the corners of my vision darken, I can only feel disgust at the fact that  _ this _ was who Hadrian really was, this insane parody of a knight for justice, and, somewhere in the part of me that still saw him as my friend and mentor, I am sickened that all Hadrian would ever remember me as was this false image of a pathetic virgin-defiling cretin who suffocated on his own blood.

 

It is those last feelings of pain and disgust that carry me into final unconsciousness.

 

\--

 

Breathing as though I’d just been in a fierce battle, I raise my sword and allow the filth to slip from my blade onto the forest floor.

 

Wiping the steel off on his tunic to cleanse it of every trace of him, I consider that I will need to come up with a plausible reason for the knight patrolling with me to be dead.

 

As I think, I step over the red-tainted corpse below me and continue on my route as normal, a certain new lightness in my step.

 

Regardless of what happens next, the only thing that truly matters is that I have freed the world of a vile animal. Surely, in the eyes of any who hear the full story, I can only be an honorable and just man, the very pinnacle of knighthood, for the actions I’ve taken.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I hope you liked that. I've never posted an original work before, so idk. I hope this was alright??? Anyway, if you liked that, feel free to visit me @ onesmallbutch.tumblr.com


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